We had been waiting
for this day for months-an afternoon gig on the biggest party weekend
of the year. We practiced, we studied, we showered-we did everything
we could do to make this a great show. Diamondbag was going to rock
St. Patrick's Day, and it was going to rock hard. After watching my
Horns gloriously advance to the Sweet 16 by beating Mississippi State
at the American Airlines Center, I high-tailed it over to Ben's Half-Yard
House in order to make the 4pm start of our set. Unfortunately, I
was apparently the only one in Dallas in a rush to get to Ben's that
day-the place was practically deserted. Let me point out that this
was in no way a reflection on the greatness of Diamondbag; after all,
three-fourths of our audience was still nursing a hangover from the
enormous Greenville Ave. parade the day before. We were originally
supposed to play on Saturday and likely would have knocked the socks
off of hundreds of puking frat guys; instead, we were about to play
to six people, two of whom were working behind the bars in Ben's impressive
outdoor fiesta tent. Life ain't always fair, brothers and sisters.

Oh well-the show must go on,
right? Hell no. We stalled as long as we could, hoping the luck of
the Irish would get some people off their asses and into Ben's. As
luck would have it, some brave souls did finally show up, and with
a determined rush, we hit the stage and played "Kentucky Woman" in
a warp-speed capacity that would have made Joey Ramone dizzy (if he
wasn't dead, that is). My first thought during this song? "Wow, these
monitors are REALLY loud." And that's a good thing, because for a
change I could actually hear myself on stage over the deafening roar
of the mighty always-present DIAMONDBAG STAGE BUZZ. We continued on
with our set, and in a few instances actually played songs at their
correct tempos. We finally debuted "Walk On Water," which is one of
my very favorite Neil tunes. It gave the band fits during rehearsals-yes,
Neil does occasionally write a complicated song. They ain't all E-A-D,
ya know. I must say that "Walk On Water" came across famously, a fact
backed up by renowned musicologist Curtis Mulkey, who was heard to
exclaim, "That new song rocked!" Thanks, dude.

After about five or six songs,
I blew off the set list. I just wasn't in the mood to sing "Play Me"
in front of a festival crowd. We played a rockin' good version of
"Cherry Cherry," and then closed the first set with everyone's favorite
pseudo-Neil song "Rock Me Gently." At that point, it was time for
a meet-and-greet with all eight audience members. That took about
20 seconds, and then it was time for booze (and some NCAA hoops on
the big screen indoors). Despite the meager crowd, I was in a fine
mood; after all, my Horns had won, and the cute Ben's waitress who
had never acknowledged my existence before made a point to come over
and say hello. Rock and roll baby-rock and roll.

Since I had decided to throw
out the original set lists, I was inside furiously crossing out and
adding tunes when much to my surprise, the band decided to start the
second set without me. I know I'm the least-talented one in the band,
but I thought this was just a little bit over the line. So I sprinted
back into the tent, arriving just in time to join the band for a rousing
"America." It was so rousing that it inspired two cute girls in the
crowd to actually get up and dance-if only for a moment. For future
reference, Diamondbag highly encourages dancing girls. Especially
when they dance with each other. Now, if only the Bailey's shot girls
had been dancing with each other.

About halfway through the set,
we were joined on stage by a true Texas legend: Mr. Willie Nelson.
The applause was thunderous as Willie joined me for a beautiful duet
on "You Don't Bring Me Flowers." The entire crowd stood erect to get
a better view of our Willie-all five foot seven inches of him. It
was truly the finest moment in the one-year history of Diamondbag,
a fact made all the more clear when the rest of the gig fell flatter
than Gwen Stefani's stomach. Most people never get to see our Willie,
and after a rock-hard moment like that, it was simply impossible for
us to keep it up any longer. After the ten-minute "Brother Love" seemingly
converted half the crowd to Judaism, we knew it was time to stop-but
not until we had played the traditional Scottish hymn "Mull of Kintyre."
After all, Scottish.Irish.English.we stupid Americans don't know the
difference anyways, so who cares? Jon's son Sean joined Daddy to sing
the song, and it would have been quite a beautiful moment if our pal
Ian had not being playing the bagpipes in a kilt right next to them.
I'm still having nightmares.

After closing with "Sweet Caroline,"
it was time to drink. And drink we did. We wanted to hang around to
watch some of the set by Hard Night's Day, but as usual it took them
about three hours to set up. We spent most of this time dodging the
scary psychic lady who wanted to tell all of our fortunes. From what
I heard, she only got one right: "Matt will get very drunk today."
After catching a few Beatle tunes, it was time to go. But we didn't
leave Ben's empty-handed that day-no, we learned something very special.
We learned that it doesn't matter if it's small. It doesn't matter
if it's big. No one cares if your hair is red, or if you're wearing
a wig. Matt will always drink, and Diamondbag will always be silly.
But everyone, everywhere, loves to look at a Willie.

Set Two
Jambalya (Jon)
America
Girl You'll Be a Woman Soon
I'm a Believer
If You Know What I Mean
You Don't Bring Me Flowers
Holly Holy
Creep
Love On the Rocks
Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show
Mull of Kintyre
Sweet Caroline